


Similarities

by WriterGirl128



Series: Falling Slowly [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Iris is angry, Mostly Barry/Iris friendship in this one, Possible slow burn series?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3359219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterGirl128/pseuds/WriterGirl128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freaking Barry Allen. He’s...he's the Flash. What?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Similarities

**Author's Note:**

> Want some secret-revealed, angsty fluff? Well, here you go! Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are by yours truly. My first fic from The Flash fandom, so I apologize in advance!

“What the _hell,_ Barry?”

Iris’ voice echoed through the warehouse, the world around her frozen. Her wide eyes darted between The Flash and Joe and back, angry and scared and a little betrayed at the sight before her. Joe, standing with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face like he’d always dreaded this day, standing beside The Flash, who was frozen mid-sentence, red suit dark in the dim light of the warehouse, cowl hanging loosely around his neck.

As if snapping out of a spell, The Flash—Barry—raised his hands defensively. “Iris, I—I can explain.” His voice was sad and a little desperate, pleading with those big blue green eyes, _Barry’s_ eyes, and seeing those eyes and that face that she loves so much in that suit…

It had happened quickly.

Iris, being the dedicated reporter she was, heard alerts of Flash sightings down at this warehouse in the middle of nowhere—something about a kidnapping. Iris wasn’t entirely sure of the story yet. But it intrigued her, and if the Flash was there…well, she couldn’t miss it. She wouldn’t get involved in anything—no, she didn’t have a death wish. She just wanted to see him, maybe figure out how to snap a few pictures. It was her job now, after all. So she went down, only to show up and find that the police had already arrived.

Initially she had been disappointed. Usually by the time the police get to a crime scene, the Flash is long gone. So she had been about to turn around and head home, when she noticed something. More specifically, someone. Her father.

He’d been standing in front of the door to the warehouse casually—almost too casually. He looked over his shoulder, down at a pad of paper he was holding, then over his other shoulder. He looked like he was paranoid, almost—checking to see if anyone was watching him. Then, when he was sure there wasn’t, he slipped into the darkness of the warehouse. No one noticed him go.

Well, no one except Iris, that is.

She wasn’t a reporter for nothing. She had a knack for reading people—body language, nervous ticks, tells that give away lies. It helped that it was her father, too. She knew him so well, this behavior definitely sent up red flags in her mind.

She didn’t have a problem getting through the other cops and detectives and into the warehouse. They all knew her, the journalist daughter of Detective West. She’d showed up to a lot of crime scenes since the Flash started to get more attention—maybe it wasn’t protocol, but the detectives usually just let her through. Probably because by the time she actually gets too deep, her father usually catches her and tells her to go home.

But not this time. This time, she made it through to the warehouse, slipping in after her father without a problem. The warehouse was dimly lit, a few flickering lights hanging from the tall ceiling. She could vaguely make out her father’s shape, like a shadow bent into the shape of his body. But there was someone else, too. She followed their voices and the closer she got, the more familiar the second one seemed. It almost sounded like Barry’s. Which, okay, wasn’t totally improbable seeing as how he also works for the CCPD, but…it didn’t seem like that kind of conversation. The tones of their voices were more urgent, more frantic.

By the time she had crept close enough to make out facial features, though, she felt her blood run cold—and then fiery hot in anger.

Which is how they ended up here.

Iris blinked at them, anger churning in the pit of her stomach. She nodded. “You can explain, huh?” she shot back at the Fla—at Barry. Freaking Barry Allen. He’s...he's the Flash. What?

“Iris, sweetheart—” Joe started, but Iris cut him off.

“Don’t you sweetheart me! I can’t believe you knew about this,” she bit back. “I can’t believe you two have been lying to me all this time!”

“Iris, keep your voice down,” her dad pled, casting a nervous glance towards the warehouse doorway. “Please, honey, let us explain—”

She lowered her voice a little—as angry as she was, she didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. “Explain, then, Dad. Explain to me why my _best friend_ and my _father_ have been lying to my face, sneaking around behind my back!” She turned on Barry, again unnerved by the fact that it was Barry she was seeing, Barry under the red suit. “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was hard to look at him. She turned back to her father. “Why didn’t _you_? How could you let him put his life in danger and _not_ tell me about it?” She was having a hard time keeping her voice down.

Joe looked at a loss. He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it dejectedly, running a hand across his face. “Iris—”

“It was my fault,” Barry cut in quickly, which made Joe look up in surprise. Barry dropped his hands, as if in defeat. “I asked him not to say anything to you. I didn’t want to put you in danger. I was trying to protect you.”

If Iris wasn’t so mad, maybe she would have noticed the way Joe looked at Barry in disbelief—maybe she would’ve seen the lie behind Barry’s words. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned back to him, eyes flaring in anger. “That is not your call to make, Barry Allen, or—or Flash, or whoever you are.” Something inside of Barry seemed to break at the words, but Iris went on. “All of those conversations we’ve had? Jitters? It was you this whole time and you never _told_ me?”

Barry opened his mouth, wincing, but Iris cut him off before he could even start.

“Barry, when I started my blog, you told me he didn’t exist! You wanted me to stop writing about him, and when I didn’t, he came to me himself. I—I told him about you, Barry! I told him about why I cared so much to begin with. It’s because I care about _you_ , damn it. Don’t you get that? Do you understand how _stupid_ that makes me feel now?” She shook her head angrily, walking away five paces before turning back to face them. “All this time I’ve been obsessing over the Flash to you, Barry, we’ve had _conversations_ about him, and you’ve been lying straight to my face about him—about you! It’s been you all along!”

Barry took a step towards her, but froze when she took a step back. He rubbed a gloved hand along the back of his neck, and Iris couldn’t help but see all of the similarities, now. They were both tall, lean, with long arms and skinny legs that didn’t appear to be able to run at hundreds of miles an hour. Though she had never been close enough for detailed facial features, she can see that they had the same facial structure—the same goofy smile she loves so much that her heart flutters a bit every time she sees it. She felt so stupid that she hadn’t put it together sooner.

“Iris, I…” Barry started, but shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. You have every right to be angry with me—believe me, I’m angry with myself, too. But I can’t—I can’t apologize for trying to keep you safe. I’m never going to apologize for protecting the people I care about.”

Iris’s heart constricted painfully. It was such a _Barry_ thing to say that she found herself both grateful and furious. “You don’t get to make that call,” she repeated. “You do not get to determine what is okay for me to know. And lying to me isn’t protecting me, Barry. I got hurt anyway.”

Barry sighed, now, his stupid bluish green eyes even more pleading, even more sad. “Iris, what I do? The people I’m involved with? They’re dangerous, and they can destroy everything in their wake.” He tried for another step closer, and this time, Iris didn’t move away. “I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe me, I’d never do anything to hurt you intentionally. You have every right in the world to be angry with me. But I couldn’t risk you getting involved with these metahumans.”

Iris threw her hands up incredulously. “I’m already involved! Remember Tony? Remember how his arm turned into metal? Because I do. And I can handle myself, you know. You don’t need to shield me from the world.”

“Iris,” Joe cut in, seeing their arguing was going to get them nowhere. “We’ve only been looking out for you. Metahumans aren’t people that people like _us_ can face off with. They’re too powerful for us, for the police, to deal with. Barry’s practically been the only thing keeping this city together since the particle accelerator explosion. He’s had to make some really tough choices—we both have. We were only trying to keep you safe. Neither one of us meant to hurt you, sweetheart.”

Iris, again, felt her chest clench painfully. God, she loved them. She couldn’t imagine a world without them in it. And she was proud of them, too—especially Barry. He’s put his life on the line to protect and save innocent people, to clean up a mess that wasn’t his fault, to give people better lives. But, still, she found herself angry on the outside, despite how her insides were thawing with emotion.

“I know, Dad,” Iris found herself saying finally. “I do. And I appreciate you trying to help, but right now, I think…I think I need to talk to Barry alone for a few minutes, if that’s okay.”

Joe smiled a little sadly at that, but nodded graciously. “Sure,” he said, but his expression lightened a little when Iris came over and hugged him. He kissed the top of her hair, rubbing her back. “I love you, honey.”

She couldn’t help but smile a little as they drew away from each other. “Love you too, Dad.” He was about thirty feet away when Iris called to him, “But we’re talking about this later!”

He didn’t turn to respond, but there was something a little like amusement in his voice when he replied, “I kind of figured you’d say that.”

Waiting until her father was out, Iris found herself turning on Barry, and while it was still angrily, it was also a little desperate—she wanted to understand, and more than that, she wanted _him_ to understand. “Barry, you were in a coma for _nine months,_ ” she started, and Barry dropped his gaze to his feet, and—God, even the Flash’s shoes looked like the same size as Barry’s. “Did you ever care about what it was like for me in that nine months? What it was like for us?”

Barry lifted his gaze at that, something almost timid in his eyes. “I wasn’t really sure you ever wanted to talk about it,” he said quietly, honestly. “I figured if you did, you would have—and you didn’t. I didn’t want to push you into it.”

Something pulled at her gut, something saying _hey, this is Barry, and he’s the Flash, and he’s your best friend in the world and honestly, if you were in a coma for nine months and woke up, you wouldn’t want to push him to talk about it either._

Iris sighed a little bit, a fraction of the anger she felt fizzling out. But only a fraction. “Barry, you—you died. Over and over again. When they took you to STAR Labs, the doctors, they figured you weren’t going to wake up.” She felt the tears prickle at her eyes, and she hated it. “They only signed off because they didn’t think you were going to make it. And it felt like someone had ripped me in half, Barry—the thought of losing you made me feel hollow and numb and I was angry at you for that. I was angry at _you,_ Barry, because you—you were leaving me.”

Now she felt the tears sting, though still, her vision was clear. She took a shuddering breath, and Barry stepped a few paces closer to her. He looked like he wanted to comfort her, but figured she’d probably turn away if he tried. “Iris…” he sighed, dropping his hands to his sides. His eyes were sad.

“You were leaving me,” she continued, swallowing the lump in her throat. “You were dying. And then you weren’t. Then it was morning and you were walking into Jitters and at first I didn’t believe it was you, and you smiled your dorky smile and it felt like, for the first time in a really long time, everything was going to be okay.”

“Iris, everything _is_ going to be okay,” he tried to assure her, but she shook her head.

“No, Barry—I got you back. It was like you came back from the dead, only you were different, and you were closed off, and you pushed me away—”

—Barry lifted his hand, opening his mouth in defense—

“—and I guess I understand it now,” Iris continued, and Barry dropped his hand. “But suddenly you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what was really going on, and it breaks my heart, Bear. And now I find out that you’ve been jumping into danger and fighting these _metahumans_ and putting your life at risk, and how do you think that makes me feel? I had no idea it was you in danger, Barry. Life was starting to be good again. I had you back.”

“You _have_ me back, Iris—I’m still here—”

“Yes, but for how long?” she asked him, more of the anger fading. “Suppose you never told me, and I never found out. What if you got really hurt? What if you _died_ because of this? Did you ever consider what that would do to me? What it would be like to finally get you back, and for life to be good and bright, and then just have you ripped away again?” Now she was crying, angry tears silently rolling down her cheeks despite how hard she fought them back.  “I cannot lose you again, Barry.”

Barry, face to face with Iris, now, looked into her eyes, and God, she didn’t want him to do that. She was always a sucker for those eyes and the way they sparkled with concern and worry and love, and she hated how the way he was looking at her now made tears fall faster, because it was a look filled with so much awe and love that Iris wasn’t even sure what she was feeling anymore.

“Iris,” Barry started gently, reaching up to lightly wipe away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs. The gloves on his hands were surprisingly soft and warm to the touch, and Iris’s eyes fluttered closed against them as she tried to pull back the tears. “I’m not going to lie to you anymore.” He said it like a promise.

She nodded against his hands, not saying a word.

“A lot of people lost things the day of the accident,” Barry continued, and his voice was as gentle as his touch, and suddenly Iris remembered every single other time the Flash has touched her, and realized it’s always been with the same love and care that Barry does. She should have put it together sooner.  “A lot of the people affected by the particle accelerator are angry about what happened to them, what it did to them. And they use their abilities to do really bad things, Iris. They use them to hurt people. If there’s even a remote possibility that I can stop them from hurting people, then I’m going to try.”

Iris swallowed the lump in her throat. “Barry…” She didn’t finish, trailing off. She was so proud of him. So proud. But she was equally as furious.

“Joe’s right—it is dangerous,” he said honestly. “Being the Flash is dangerous. I get hurt—a lot. Sometimes it’s worse than others. And honestly, it could kill me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it.” He hesitated for a second, then, which made Iris open her eyes. His hands moved down to her shoulders, still gentle, still Barry. She looked at his face, then, and there was a light in his eyes that she loves—the same kind of light as when he’s spieling on and on about physics or electronegativity or ionization. His mouth was drawn into a small, gentle smile—honest, but still a little sad. “I love being the Flash, Iris,” he admitted, “I really do. I love being able to help people. You said it yourself—the Flash gives people hope. I love being able to do that. If giving people hope means occasionally getting my ass handed to me by a superpowered bad guy…” He shook his head. “It’s worth it.”

Iris’ heart swelled. He was totally infuriating. She was angry—but how was she supposed to stay angry at Barry? Especially when he’s being all noble and altruistic, and _genuinely_ meaning all of it? She shook her head, trying to clear it. She put one of her own hands over one of Barry’s, and when she did, it was almost as if she could feel the power running through his veins, the speed vibrating right under his skin.

“Barry,” she said, and Barry’s expression darkened, like he was bracing himself for the worst. “Bear, I am so incredibly proud of you.”

Barry’s eyebrows drew together at that, not expecting her to respond like that at all. The corner of his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile, but was holding it back. “I, uh—I thought you were angry with me.”

Iris nodded. “I am. I’m _furious_ with you, Barry Allen. But I’m also extremely proud of you. You have saved so many people, have changed so many lives for the better, and you get no credit for it. Some people don’t even believe you’re real. But you don’t do it for the credit—you do it because you’re a genuinely _good_ person, Barry.”

Barry still looked on guard, like he was preparing for her to start yelling at him again. “But…” he pushed her to continue.

Iris sighed, dropping her hand. “But you’re still missing my point, Barry! I’m not angry at you because of what you _do,_ because I can tell how much you love it. The Flash is important to the city. _You’re_ important to the city. I’m not trying to talk you out of being the Flash, and I never will. I’m angry at you because you thought it was okay to put your life at risk and not tell me about it! I'm angry that you thought I was strong enough to lose you again without any kind of warning!”

“Iris…”

“No. You are my best friend, Bear, and I lost you once just out of the blue, and you left me, and I cannot handle losing you like that. Not again.”

Barry swallowed, then, understanding dawning in his eyes, those stupid beautiful eyes that Iris loves. “Iris, I’m sorry,” he said, and for someone so intelligent it took him a while to truly grasp what Iris was saying. And he drew her into a hug, and she came willingly, and he murmured into her hair, “Iris, I’m so sorry. I made a mistake—and you’re right, I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed into his chest, a little thickly because for some reason she was crying again, and her arms were around Barry and his suit was odd and it was still a little weird to see Barry’s head come out of the top but she found herself already getting used to it, no matter how fervently she'd deny it out loud. “You should have.”

“I know, Iris. I know. I’m sorry.” It was quiet for a moment, Barry letting Iris find comfort in their embrace. Then, softly, he said, "But I'm not going to apologize for trying to protect you, Iris. I'll always try to protect you."

If there was even one square inch of material in that suit that wasn't clinging tightly to Barry's body, the fabric would be in Iris's fist. Instead, she gripped at his chest, pressing her hands in as if the touch would keep him with her. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I’m here, Iris. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sniffling, Iris pulled away, but he kept a hand on her shoulder and she kept a hand pressed against his chest, over his heart, and—yeah, it was still the rapid heartbeat she’d felt that first day in Jitters.

“It’s still beating,” Barry commented, smiling at her a little.

Iris laughed. “Really fast,” she finished, watery. “Which now makes…a _lot_ of sense.”

Barry laughed a little bit, and he was grinning that dorky Barry Allen grin of his, and Iris laughed too because how could she possibly stay angry at someone who she loved so much it hurt?

She smiled at him, then, still feeling the tears she’d shed but no longer crying. Her voice was a little thick when she spoke, but she wiped her eyes and cheeks and already felt better. “Well, Flash,” she said, her tone more professional, the way they’d spoken on the roof of Jitters in secrecy, and he cocked an eyebrow at her. “You might want to get going—I think your city needs you.”

His smile grew a little bit, and he nodded kindly. “Very well, Miss West,” he agreed, pulling the cowl securely over his face. “Tomorrow?”

She smiled again, nodding. “Definitely.” He smiled at her then, and was just about to turn away, she knew, about to disappear in a—well— _flash,_ and she caught his elbow. “Hey, Barry?”

He turned back to her. “Yeah?”

Iris bit her lip, then, before pulling him into a hug again. “Thank you,” she said, before planting a kiss on his cheek and pulling away. “For everything. But never lie to me about something like this ever again or you will regret it—I don’t care how fast you are.”

Barry laughed a little, dropping his head. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed dutifully. “Thanks, Iris.”

“Love you, Bear,” she said, and she was smiling at him.

“I love you too,” he returned with a grin.

And when Iris blinked, he was gone.

She exhaled. “Whoa.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this was intended to be a one-shot, but I have some ideas to expand it and make it a slow-burn series, maybe? I don't really know yet. It's a possibility, so let me know what you think and if I should make a series out of it! It could be fun. Feedback and kudos are always welcome!


End file.
